Tooth and Claw
by Neural Misfit
Summary: "Violence was their passion, the bruises each whispering 'I love you' in a tongue long lost and foreign to them." XemSaix. One-shot. Complete.


**Tooth and Claw  
>Author – <strong>neural misfit  
><strong>Fandom <strong>– Kingdom Hearts  
><strong>Summary <strong>– Tumblr prompt. "Affection beneath violence."  
><strong>Disclaimer <strong>– Own it? HA.  
><strong>Rating<strong> – T. PG-15.  
><strong>Word Count<strong> – 765

* * *

><p>There are times, breathless moments caught only in the mere intimacy in the dark caress of the nighttime hours, when they seem to almost be something more than what they are now. Flesh meets, yes, but there is almost a thought of an echo that slides across sensation while they remain so close, moving in friction and grind of pleasure. A symphony that is always familiar and yet eternally different every time they come close to one another rolls from either throat, a mix of soft moans and heady growls, of deep cries and breathless gasps and toe-curling whines between the two.<p>

It is not like the pairings of the others, those that dwell beneath control of the silver-hair that lingers above the berserker while blood is ripped forth from dusky confines by long claws that cut across flesh and muscle in signs of enjoyment. Not like the others, they both pretend to agree while dwelling in denial.

After is when the denial fades from lip and tongue and mind, their heartless forms aching with something that could _almost _be love. **Almost**.

Xemnas remains aware that he is half being used and half merely reassurance for the smaller man that nestles in against him so, his raw wounds aching with fresh flows of blood across the powerful musculature that remains exposed to the warmth of his lover's skin. He knows that this started as convenience alone and as a desire to gain what Saix wanted — closeness to him in order to further his own agendas. And at first, that was all that his second-in-command had.

Saix is not sure when it was that he started to linger, to seek excuses to remain there in the presence of the Superior. At first, before, when he had joined with Axel — it had been easy to hate him, to merely let the older man have what he wanted. It had been _easy. _But things were never static, the world and even they in a constant state of flux, though eternal creatures they may have been. Echoes became stirs, stirs became tightness in chest and throat. Easiest to deny that they didn't exist.

They were not like the others whom had paired up, Xigbar and Xaldin one of the more eclectic couples but remaining joined at the hip, Zexion and Lexaeus whom were perhaps one of the odder pairings, even Vexen and Marluxia whom seemed to give something more than just bedplay — no, out of them all, it was the Superior and his so-called 'lapdog' as the scarred Freeshooter had once been heard to call Saix, that were the most messed up.

Violence was their passion, the bruises each whispering 'I love you' in a tongue long lost and foreign to them where they blossomed on one another's skin beneath presses of fingers to flesh, every scratch and cut upon skin both tawny and alabaster crying 'I need you' whilst breaking either canvas up, those bites declaring 'Mine mine _**mine**_' to the others. And if Axel did not quite meet those yellow eyes anymore and there was a difference in coolness on Saix's part, no one in the Organization ever said anything. If there was one rule that remained unspoken, it was that they did not pry into whatever went on between the sheets in the beds of the Castle.

But it when the blue-haired man nestled in against the chest of his Superior, slick skin wet with blood and sweat that tasted ever so good as he sampled it with his tongue, tracing a fresh bruise with the pointed end of his tongue to the reward of a throaty moan that rolled out in the privacy of the larger Nobody's chambers, the softness.. did not go unappreciated; nor did the nestle of a nose to his hair, the wrap of the other man's arm around the slim form saying without words that he was.. needed. Yes. Only in moments like this, when violence had been expended and shared between one another did the softness emerge with soft footsteps into view.

Thus they linger like that until morning, curled together with the older man holding the younger in a fashion that says '_I need you. I want you to stay. I'm begging you, please, please don't leave here._' And despite himself, against his probably better judgment.. Saix stays.

It is a dance that they will continue time and time again, the tenderness that refuses to be brought up by either of them remaining unvoiced.. but then.. they always did say that actions were prone to speaking louder than words.


End file.
